Into the Past
by roxygoth
Summary: When an old enemy turns up out the blue and kidnaps Mrs Beakley, it's up to Scrooge and the rest of the family to help find her. One things for sure, they're not giving up without a fight...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Roxy Goth here. Hope you all are well.**

 **So this story is a sequel to my story 'Into the Maize' I'm not sure whether it's vital you read that story first, but it might help.**

 **This story does contain OC's later on in the chapter. 1 of them appeared in the prequel, the others haven't.**

 **This story takes place quite a while after Into The Maize.**

 **Webby – 14.**

 **Triplets – 15.**

 **I do not own Ducktales 2017, 87 or the comics. Actually let's just say I don't own anything Disney related and leave it at that, okay?**

"Ah! Smell that guys?" Dewey said, as himself, Huey and Louie walked out the school gates. "That is the smell of freedom!"

Louie grinned. "I can just see the lazy days now. You, me, Huey and Webby chilling in front of the TV to our hearts content."

Huey frowned lightly, before reminding them. "We do have homework to do you guys. Mr Jones…"

"Oh, stuff Mr Jones." Dewey said, loudly, gaining the attention of a couple of other students. "It's the holidays! We're entitled to some fun!" He and Louie high-fived.

Huey seemed like he was about to say something, but thought better of it. "Yeah, we are." He held his hands out and they did a three-way high-five.

Laughing the slung their arms round one another shoulders and walked out the gate triumphantly.

Ten minutes later they were nearing the local park. Louie had his phone out and was texting.

"Webby." He said, seeing his brothers curious look. "I asked her to meet us there." His phone pinged, he looked at the text and smiled. "Looks like she beat us to it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Huey said, rhetorically as they turned into the gate.

Webby waved from the basket-swing. "Over here! C'mon, one of you push me!"

As Dewey headed over to oblige her, Louie said to his oldest brother, "Aren't we getting just a _tad_ too old for this?"

Huey shrugged non-committedly said, pointedly. "Do you wanna tell her?"

Louie paled and looked to where Webby and Dewey were laughing. "No fear."

"So do you know what we're doing during the holidays?" Webby said, fairly loudly.

Dewey scrunched his beak up and said. "Dunno really. We've not got anything planned. What about you and Beakley?"

Webby leaned back and lay full across the swing, saying as she did so. "I think we've got that training course coming up in a couple of weeks. So we'll be away for two nights then. Apart from that I'm not sure."

"What do you even do there?" Louie asked him and Huey coming over just in time to hear the last little bit of the conversation.

Webby expertly leapt off the swing, landing on her feet and turning to face the boys. "Well…I could tell you…but then I'd have to kill you." She put her head on one side and said sweetly. "And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

The boys quickly shook their heads and Dewey carried on.

"We'll probably end up doing something. We live with Scrooge McDuck for crying out loud. The guys addicted to adventure."

"Look who's talking." Huey and Louie said together.

Dewey grinned and held his hands up. "Okay, okay, I walked into that one. But we'll find something to do. Now, let's get home and see if we can persuade Uncle Donald to take us to the ice-cream pallor as celebration. C'mon, let's go!"


	2. A quiet conversation

**Hey! I'm back, I don't usually update this soon after, but I know where his is going [for the early chapters at least] and I'm on Holiday soon so…**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's go!**

"So, how was it?" Beakley asked as Donald walked back in.

He gave her a look. "How do you think it was?"

Beakley raised an eyebrow and put down her cup of tea. "That bad, huh?"

Donald sighed and threw himself into the nearest chair. "It's the end of the year and the middle of summer. It was hot and busy and noisy and I nearly lost my temper when the cheeky young know-it-all behind the desk gave me the wrong change and then - _then_ – tried to insist _I_ was in the wrong!"

"So what did you do?"

The ex-sailor rubbed a hand across his brow. "What do you think I did, Mrs B? Lost my temper, like I always do."

Beakley tsked and put the kettle on.

There was a long pause during which the kettle came to a boil. Just as Beakley was pouring the tea Donald carried on. "At least the kids enjoyed it."

Beakley agreed. "Yes, that's the main thing. Here." She passed him his mug.

He thanked her and blew on it a bit.

"How was Webbigil?" Bentina asked, slipping into grandmother mode.

Donald nodded and put the mug down. "Good. Yeah, she's…she's a lot better than she was, you know."

Beakley nodded and took another sip of her tea. "That's good."

"Scrooge been good?"

"He hasn't died in the last three hours if that's what you mean. Hhmm, by the way, he's talking about taking the children somewhere"

Donald gave her a look. "Where?"

Beakley shrugged and the younger duck frowned, a steely glint coming into his eyes. "He's taking them nowhere without talking to me first."

"He _is_ upstairs."

Donald took another sip of his tea. "I'll leave it till tomorrow now. It's late."

"Wimp."

"What did you call me?"

"A wimp. It's 8:30."

Donald finished his tea. "I'll still leave it till tomorrow. Thanks Mrs B, bye Mrs B." He left.

Beakley shook her head and finished her tea. Men were a mystery sometimes.


	3. Maize Part 1

**Hey! I'm back, sorry for the delay, but I've been on holiday. The good news is I've got up to chapter 9 written so far.**

 **Thank you to CartoonLover422 for reviewing, now let's crack on with the next chapter.**

 **This chapter features one of the OC's I talked about [she the one that's in Into the Maize] and is mainly about setting things up.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's get started.**

" _I want you to get me that Mammal. The old one with the things on its face. Yes…it should be an interesting study."_

That was the gist of the mission that the Grand-Mistress had sent her youngest agent on. Normally Agent 7 went out her way to avoid any mission involving Planet 3 and it's weird inhabitants, however seeing that they Grand-Mistress herself had personally picked her for the mission and the prize was the mammal who ruined her last operation…it was too tempting a target to pass up.

The problem with this simple-sounding mission is; there's so many mammals running around Planet 3, it's a bit hard to know where to start, which had led to 7's brainwave. So she was now sitting on a bench in the local 'park' [In disguise of course] keeping an eye out to see of any of the creatures walking past would be the Big One with the Glasses.

From her studies it was rare for female mammals to be as toned as this one was, especially older mammals, so at least she had a slightly unusual specimen to look for. It would just be nice if it actually turned up.

7 sighed and leaned against the bench. It was going to be a long day.


	4. Routine

**Hey! I'm back, so this chapter focuses on Mrs Beakley.**

 **At the point of writing this I was on holiday in the middle of the ocean, so therefore couldn't get internet and therefore can't research as certain character who appears in this chapter. If they seem out of character, that will be why.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's go.**

If there was one thing in Bentina Beakley's life that would never change it was her routine.

Up at 5 and change into a tracksuit. Go to the gym and train for forty minutes. [Said gym was technically Scrooge's personal gym he'd had some years ago when some young personal trainer had dared to suggest he was old, but now it was basically hers]. Then have a relaxing shower and a bit of a break before going into the pool [again Scrooge's, in the basement of McDuck manor] and doing a couple of lengths for about half an hour. Then out, another shower, do her hair, get dressed into normal clothes and go upstairs to have breakfast and get the children up and ready for school.

Except of course it was summer holidays so the children were nowhere to be seen when she walked into the kitchen. She sighed and clicked her tongue. Perfect. Now what was she meant to do. She could hoover she supposed, a mansion this size really needed a team of five at least to keep it going, but thanks to Scrooge being Scrooge it was just her and Duckworth.

The butler gave her a look when she dragged the hoover in. "I see."

"You see what?" Beakley asked, pushing it on and starting work.

"You're trying to outdo me."

Beakley scoffed. "There's no trying about it, I AM outdoing you. Now, move out the way before I switch this thing to ghost."

Duckworth gave a long suffering sigh, but did as asked and started dusting the mantelpiece. There was a comfortable pause before he ruined it with. "Do you and Miss Webbigail have any plans for the holidays, Bentina?"

"Just the usual. We've got that training course coming up in just under two weeks. We'll be out of your hair for the whole weekend then."

To which Duckworth said, indignantly. "I never implied-"

"-Yes you did. Now if you don't mind, I would quite like to get this done in peace."

The ghost rolled his eyes again. "Your husband must love you."

"He does." Bentina said, a tad more forcefully than was necessary. "That's why he married me. We've been married 42 years, you know."

Duckworth whistled. "A long time. Of course there is the fact you're in different countries."

Beakley waved the end of the hoover at him, threateningly. "Duckworth, I am warning you now if you say keep talking about the state of my marriage – which is fine by the way – I WILL suck you into this thing. And I will leave you there till someone notices you're missing."

Duckworth's eyes went wide as he remembered the last time that had happened. The only one who had noticed was Mr McDuck, and that was only after 46 hours. He was not keen to repeat the experience. "Very well then."

They carried on housekeeping in silence.


	5. Maize Part 2

**I'm back! See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

The grand mistress was not happy. She glared down at 7 from her perch.

" _So tell me exactly why you don't have the mammal with you?"_

7 winced at the tone, before animatedly explaining her grand plan and how she was certain it would work.

The G-M was not impressed. "And why do you think the park is the perfect place to find a mammal? Not all of them like outdoors."

To which 7 said. "True, Mistress, but this one is clearly very fit, you remember how she lifted that scythe by herself? It was very heavy as well. It must work out, and most mammals like jogging. The activity keeps blood pressure down."

The grand-mistress raised an eyebrow. "And that's good is it?"

"According to them, yes."

There was an agonising pause, then the G-M nodded. "Very well. Proceed with the plan, but if it doesn't work by the end of one human month then we abandon dissecting the mammal and dissect you instead, understand?"

7 bowed her head in response.


	6. Of Arguments and Conversations

**Hey! I'm back, hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **As this takes place a good couple of years after the series I've filed in a lot of the blanks in-between myself, including what Donald is doing now.**

 **If anyone knows about the series Donald's referring to [which does exist], kudos to you.**

 **1 OC in this chapter.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer.**

If there was one thing Bentina Beakley was not keen on hearing while she was trying to dust the inside of the fire-place; it was the sound of Scrooge and Donald arguing.

Having put it off for two days Donald had finally plucked up the courage to go and confront Scrooge about his plan to take the kids abroad somewhere. The resulting argument could probably be heard on the other side of the Antarctic.

"I really doon't see what your problem is, laddy!"

"My _problem_ Scrooge is that you haven't even talked to me about this! I had to find out from Mrs Beakley-"

"-Oh, Beakley. Look, it's not like we're excluding you; you're free to come along-"

"-I can't though, can I?"

"Why not?"

There was a spluttered squawk, and then Donald said, in a volume that could drown a jet engine. "I'm filming, Scrooge! Remember? With Jose and Panchito? The series?"

The volume dropped a bit after that, presumably while they sat down and discussed it like the civilised adults they were on their birth certificates. Beakley finished the mantelpiece and started on the top shelf.

The main saving grace, and the reason she wasn't that bothered about intervening, was that the kids were out. They'd taken their bikes, apparently to do some 'wheelies' and 'cool tricks', whatever they meant by that. No doubt Louie would film it and share it on Facebook. Maybe she could get Webby to show it to her later.

She smiled thinking about her granddaughter. She would probably be trying to ride the bike no-handed or doing circus tricks with it. Beakley wasn't worried; she knew Webby knew her limitations. That was one thing they had always been clear on, know your limitations. There was no point trying to do something if you knew you couldn't. If you did that you'd just end up with an injury-

The phone on her dressing table rang. [Yes she was cleaning her own room, well it wasn't like Scrooge hired anybody else to do it, and she certainly wasn't letting Duckworth nose around in their].

Dusting her hands off she picked the phone and looked at the I.D. It was her old friend Eliza Doolittle. No doubt ringing to confirm arrangement for next weekend, Beakley thought as she answered it.

"Beakley speaking."

The voice of her old training partner crackled in her ear. "Benny! Oh, I'm so glad I got you."

"Well, you did ring my mobile." Bentina sat down on the bed, frowning up at the ceiling as Scrooge and Donald's voices started up again.

A high-pitched laugh, then. "So are you and Webster coming to the training competition?"

"Of course."

"Oh, I'm so glad. Myself and the girls are going of course."

"Ah, yes. How are your folks?" Cue the customary chatter about families and what everyone was doing now.

Halfway through, Eliza diverted. "By the way, Benny, I've been meaning to ask for the last five minutes. What i _s_ that noise?"

"That, my dear, would be the sound of Scrooge and Donald arguing."

"Oh. What about?"

"Officially I have no idea. Un-officially Scrooge wants to take the children on a trip to France, followed by Italy and then Scotland to finish." She paused while Eliza made suitable 'oh that's so nice' sounds down the phone, before saying, guardedly. "I know it is, but Donald doesn't think so. He can't go with them because of his filming commitment, and for some reason – I can't think why – doesn't like the idea of them trotting of for 4 weeks with Scrooge without him. Ah, some things never change. Anyway, mustn't stand here gossiping, I have a house to clean, you know."

Eliza sighed. "I would love to see Scrooge's mansion someday. Do you reckon you could wrangle me an invitation?"

Beakley rolled her eyes. "Yes, and maybe we'll re-gain the powers of flight. Anyway, bye dear."

"Bye Benny!" The line went dead and Beakley resumed cleaning, smiling widely as she did so.


	7. Closing in

**Hey! I'm back.**

 **Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favourite and followed so far.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

It was the next day that Beakley decided to do something unusual. Break her routine.

She found Webby in her room reading Famous Five. "Webby dear, I'm going jogging. I'll be back in a little while."

Her granddaughter looked up, surprised. "What, now? It's 2 in the afternoon, why are you going jogging now?"

Beakley closed Webby's door and explained. "Well, actually, my dear, I'm in rather a good mood. I spoke to Aunt Eliza yesterday and she confirmed herself and the girls are going to The Island this year, so we'll see them soon."

Webby grinned in response. "Oh, cool!"

"Yes it is, 'cool.' Anyway, I can't properly focus on tidying so I'm off jogging for a bit. Goodbye dear."

"Bye Granny."

And with that Beakley set of.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

7 was both bored and deeply regretting her idea. Maybe the grand-mistress was right and her idea was a stupid one. After all most mammals disliked exercise ever since time had got rid of the need for the flight or fight response.

She sighed, and adjusted the 'cam-e-ra' in her hands. As part of her disguise she's brought it and was posing as a 'bird-watcher'. She'd discovered that the mammals were giving her strange looks as they walked past her and the last thing she wanted was to attract attention.

She looked up and nearly dropped the camera when she saw her target enter the gate, her plan had paid off! She knew it would work. She instantly started surreptitiously taking photos.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Years of spy training doesn't just disappear when you stop being an active agent and it was thanks to this Bentina had spotting and solved many a potential calamity. Occasionally thought she got strange feelings about people and what they may or may not be doing.

This time it was a tall women on the other side of the water fountain that got Beakley's attention – though being from England she was doing her best not to stare - though she couldn't help noticing that the women had large sunglasses on, a top and skirt that both seemed slightly too large for her and a big floppy hat. She also had long hair tumbling down her back.

The main reason Beakley was watching her wasn't because of her looks, however weird they were, it was because she had a camera and appeared to be taking pictures of something near Beakley. However as there was precisely nothing that Bentina could see off interest around her [except trees ,maybe, if the woman was a nature enthusiast] it seemed that maybe the lady was taking pictures of her. But that was ridiculous, who would want to take pictures of her, for goodness sake? Her training was making her paranoid.

Still she smoothly turned round and jogged out the park.

Just behind the water fountain 7 put down the camera and mentally cursed. She's spooked the subject. Obviously she'd have to try a different tack.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at home Bentina was breathing heavily as she sat on a stool in the kitchen and dabbed a towel on her face.

"How was it, granny?" Webby asked from the doorway.

Her granny gave a heavy sigh and said. "Alright. Though…never mind."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"What?" Webby sat on the other stool and looked at her in concern. "What is it, granny?"

Bentina sighed and leaned back on the counter. "It's nothing Webbigail. I just…I thought I saw some lady taking pictures of me-"

"What? If you? Why would she take pictures of you?"

Beakley chuckled. "Oh, I can think of a good couple of reasons, and none of them are to do with my stunning good looks. I have enemies, Webbigail, you know that. It's not unreasonable one of them might have tracked me to here."

"Oh." Was all Webby said, and it needed no further explanation as to why. It was enemy agents that had led to Webby living with her mother's mother in the first place. "W-will you be alright?"

Beakley placed an arm round her grand-daughter and pulled her close. "Of course I will. Of course I will."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

7 finished showing the Grand-Mistress the photo's she'd taken. "As you can see it's clear the subject does use the park. I plan to leave it a few days before going back. I was there a couple of days before she turned up, so I'll put the plan into action Saturday, human time and see where that gets me. What do you think?"

There was a long pause, then; "Very good, 7. Very good. In the meantime you can resume your normal duties then. Go get the food and feed the animals."

7 bowed and left the room.


	8. Life after spying

**Hey! I'm back. Thank you to everyone who's favourite and followed so far.**

 **This chapter is slightly more of a filler, focusing on Mrs Beakley's thoughts.**

 **Waning: Mentions of violence.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

If there was one thing everyone would agree on regarding Mrs Beakley, it was that she was a very sensible woman. She always kept a clear head, and she always knew what to do.

It was because of this that she didn't panic when she thought she was being stalked. It came with the job, to be honest. She'd had training to deal with it that she could still remember and if there was one warning that came with the job of being a spy – aside from the very real risk you may lose your life – it was that the job never left you.

You never forgot your training, your comrades, or the people you'd seen perish. You also never lost your enemies. As a general rule they didn't care if and when you technically gave up your job, the point was you'd crossed them – or their boss – and they wanted your head on a pike.

Of course she wasn't going to give it to them. She was reasonably sure she was safe in Scrooges manor, it was secured to the hilt and the good thing about Scrooges cheapness was he never employed new staff and she was 99 percent sure that no one she knew would be tempted to spy on her for money. Or kill her in her sleep for that matter.

Outside the manor she wasn't so sure. There could always be a paid assassin hiding away somewhere. Or a hit man with a gun. She'd tangled with some fairly dangerous groups over time and she was sure they would love revenge if there figured out where she was.

It was part the reason she'd moved to America when Scrooge had invited her in the first place. Of course she had to leave her husband and her then-teenage daughter in England but at the time she reasoned it couldn't be helped.

It was times like this she wished she could turn the clock back.

The good thing was she was 90 percent certain none of her enemies knew about Webby. The tragedy that had befell Jane and Alastair Vanderquack had happened while Eliza had been taking care of Webby for the weekend – to give the new parents some time to themselves as the new-fangled parenting books advised – and they didn't have photos of her on display. To do so would be a gift to potential enemies.

Yes, some training never left you.

The result of the final performance had been 6 month old Webbigail Vanderquack coming to live with her. It was one of the few weekends she had off in all the time she'd worked for Scrooge and had the honour off being the only one he didn't insist she make up the hours for. He'd actually paid her flight over and gave Webby a room in his manor for the foreseeable future. [Whether or not this was to down to his own guilt over Della's disappearance was up for debate, but wisely she stayed away from _that_ topic]

She finished her breakfast – in silence because the kids weren't up yet and Scrooge and Donald still weren't talking – and resolved to be on her guard for a good couple of days at least.

After all, it didn't pay to slack.


	9. And we're going to

It was one week after the kids broke up that Donald and Scrooge finally reached an agreement about the holiday.

Scrooge called a family meeting – which naturally included her and Webbigail – and addressed the room. "Ah hav' brought you all together to tell you that we will be going on holiday this year-"

A cheer came from the kids and Dewey and Louie high-fived.

"To Scotland." Scrooge finished and Beakley had to supress a giggle at the looks on the boys faces. The only one who was excited was Webby, and let's face it, Beakley thought, she'd be happy seeing a museum of dirt as long as it was with the boys.

Sensing the less-than-enthusiastic atmosphere in the room, Donald took over. "We'll be staying in a manor up there that Scrooge has rented us." The unspoken words being 'because he was too cheap to pay the hotel bill' "We'll visit a few castle's and Lochness of course."

Four different reactions there. Huey and Dewey looked eager, Webby looked slightly apprehensive and Louie was clearly not happy.

"Oh great." He said, folding his arms. "Knowing our luck we'll come head to head with the Lochness Monster."

Huey leaned forward. "Doesn't actually exist, Louie."

"Neither do Murder Pony officially, or the Greek Gods or Atlantis – want me to go on, Hubert?"

"Boys!" The authority in Donald's voice broke up the squabbling. "We'll be fine. It'll be fun." Seeing the raised eyebrows he got from the triplets, he amended it to. "It'll be an experience. And Scrooge has got some other things for us to do."

"Ah certainly have. We'll be seein' the National History Museum of Bagpipes." Scrooge said, grinning, eyes shining with excitement. "Ah good bit of history there for you, young Huey."

Huey grinned back, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Dewy was more vocal. "What about the adventure? The drama?"

Scrooge glared and his voice took on a more upset tone. "Laddy, we're takin' a submarine to the bottom of Lochness Lake ah doon't think it gets much more exciting than that in Scotland. And you cannae have adventure everywhere you go. You've been lucky to see as much as you have. Of course we could leave you here if you prefer it?"

As Louie bolted straight up in his seat, Donald shook his head vigorously. "Don't give them the option, Scrooge. Anyway, that's it. Meeting dismantled."

The kids got up talking amongst themselves, Beakley removed herself to the kitchen. She had dinner to prepare.

After about ten minutes Webby joined her. The excitement had faded and she rubbed her arm nervously. "Granny?"

"Yes dear?"

The young teenager said, hesitatingly. "W-will you be alright with us going to England?"

Beakley sighed softly. "Well my dear, I don't really have a choice."

"Yes you do! You could just ask to stay here! I'm sure Uncle Scrooge wouldn't mind, a house this big needs looking after if we're going for a week right? Right?" By this point Webby had leapt onto the work-top next to her granny and was looking at her nervously.

Beakley smiled and put an arm round Webby. "The problem with that theory is, Webbigail, I am technically employed as Scrooge's bodyguard. And, you know, he is the richest duck in the world, if he went to Scotland and was; assassinated, say, then it would be my responsibility because I stayed here instead of accompanying him. Anyway, if I stay here in an empty house while you lot disappear I'm potentially playing into the enemy's hands. Aren't I?"

Beakley could see Webby was starting to see sense, but she still wasn't fully convinced. "What about Duckworth?"

Beakley scrunched her beak up. "Oh yes. Me and Duckworth here for a whole week. Either he'd find a way to kill me, or I'll put him into the hoover again. And also if someone did attack there's only so much damage a ghost can do. No, I'll be accompanying you and Mr McDuck, my dear. Although…" She trailed off.

Webby looked at her. "Although what?"

"…Maybe if I asked Mr McDuck he would allow us to spend a couple of days with Ricky. That would be nice. I haven't seen him for…well, 6 years now. Yes, there's an idea."

Webby grinned and jumped of the work-top. "Yay! I like Granddad, he's funny and he gives my sweets and gifts."

"Yes, that would be because he doesn't see you most of the time. Fair enough, I'll ask Mr McDuck- I can't promise anything though." She warned.

She received a tight hug round the middle in response.


	10. Maize verses Beakley

**Hey! Roxy Goth here. Sorry for the long delay, it was a mix of things. I fell out of love with Ducktales for a while. I wrote more fics for the TMNT fandom. [Feel free to check them out, if you wish] And I wasn't sure people were liking this fanfiction.**

 **However thanks to the review posted this morning from Guest, I decided to give it another go. So sorry for the delay and please enjoy.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

It had been a few days, although to Agent 7 it felt like months. This was the moment, this was the day that the tall one with glasses would be within her grip.

7 put down the binoculars upon seeing the specimen jogging towards her. Showtime.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _[Twenty minutes ago]_

" _Do you have to go, granny?" Webby asked, anxiously._

 _Bentina gave her grand-daughter a fond smile. "I need to keep in shape, Webbigail. Jogging is the best excise for that, it builds-"_

" _-But we're, like, two days away from-!" Seeing her grandma's eyes narrow, Webby amended her sentence into. "-from seeing Aunt Eliza. We'll do plenty of training then. Can't you wait? Especially with…you know?" She lowered her voice and said. "The assassin."_

 _Beakley rolled her eyes. "We don't know it is an assassin, Webbigail. It could be…" She trailed off trying to think of a logical explanation. Webby folded her arms and looked up at her granny with an eyebrow raised. "…Okay so I can't think of a logical explanation." Beakley admitted. "But I'll be fine, I promise. Now – kiss?"_

 _Webby scrunched her beak up, but allowed Beakley to give her a peck on the cheek anyway. "Bye dear."_

 _No reply came and Beakley sighed. Only two days to go._

[In present time]

Hopefully Webbigail wouldn't be too annoyed at her, Beakley thought as she jogged into the park. But she simply didn't understand. This was a standard part of her routine and no stupid assassin was going to ruin that. Beside. Beakley had been trained by SHUSH. She was certain she could handle whatever life threw at her, even if it did come with a potentially poisoned arrow.

That women was there again, Beakley noted. By the pond, with a camera and…were they binoculars?

A shiver went down her spine. She found herself thinking 'I should turn back' but stubbornness prevented her. However, she didn't consciously realised it, but she had stopped.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as the specimen stopped 7 nearly jumped for joy, but stopped herself as their was no time to waste. She looked left and then right. No mammals around at all.

With ferocious speed she lunged forward and made a grab for the specimen. Annoyingly said specimen dodged at the last moment and 7 found herself laid out on the floor. Out the corner of her eye she saw the specimen running away and with an animalistic growl 7 got up and ran after it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Donald would be proud of her if he could hear her. It was like she was trying to break the world record for how many swear words you could say in a minute.

Of course in hindsight she probably should have run out of the park, not deeper into it, but you know. Hindsight was 50/50.

She could hear the women behind her, although going of the sheer amount of growls and the sound of teeth gnashing she actually wasn't sure if it was a human. It wouldn't be the first time a man had dressed in drag after all – and now wasn't really the _time_ , Bentina!

Then she heard a screech that made her blood run cold. She'd heard that screech before, she was sure of it.

A heavy weight grabbed her ankles, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. As Beakley head connected with something sharp, she was aware of one thought.

 _I'm sorry Webby._


	11. Waiting and Waiting

**Hey! I'm back, thanks to Guest and luveofcats for reviewing the last chapter, it means a lot to me.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

To say Webby was worried would be an understatement.

It had been two hours since her grandma had gone out jogging and she hadn't returned yet. At first Webby hadn't been worried as it wasn't unusual for her grandma to be out for about an hour. By the time it got to an hour and a half Webby, concerned, had found Mr McDuck.

"Granny isn't back yet." She told him, wringing her hands.

Scrooge, who had been in the middle of some Very Important Investment stuff, paused page-turned. "Not back yet?" He echoed. She nodded, he looked at the clock. "But she left over an hour ago!"

"I know." Webby said, trying to keep her voice even.

There was a silence while Scrooge considered what to do, then he straightened up and said. "We'll give her another half an hour. She might be trying to make up for the fact she won't be able to exercise next week when you two go to wherever you're going."

At this proclamation Webby stomach went into knots. There was no way that Scrooge theory was right as they'd be doing plenty off training next week, however she couldn't tell him that otherwise her Granny would NOT be happy.

So she waited. That was all she could do.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, up on Agent 7's planet the Grand-Mistress was heaping praise on her youngest agent. "Congratulations, 7. I knew you were too sensible to fail me. Now. Let's see what we have here…" She nodded to two other aliens who obediently lifted the blanket covering the cage Bentina was in up.

The grand-mistress gasped. "Such a beautiful specimen. "She said, in awe. "Look how perfectly the muscles are defined. The beak – oh. Hhmm." She cleared her throat. "Oh, 7?"

7 stood to attention and saluted.

"Why are the eyes closed?"

In answer 7 walked over to a nearby wall and place her finger-tips lightly on it. A whole screen filled the wall and image started showing of exactly what had happened between 7 and the subject. The grand-mistress was impressed.

"Interesting." She said, as soon as 7 had finished. "The subject clearly had stamina and a good level of physical fitness which is getting rarer with every generation of humans born. Hhmm. Okay. I'm satisfied. 8, 9?" The two agents stepped forward. The grand-mistress waved a hand dismissively and ordered. "Take her to the Zoo."

As 8 and 9 began to move the cage, the grand mistress glided off.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three hours had gone. Webby was practically glued to the window, watching the path with increasing desperation.

"Hey." She didn't even look up as she heard Donald's voice behind her.

"Hey." She said, softly.

Webby felt Donald sit down next to her. "Scrooge is calling the police." He informed her gently.

There was a long pause and then girl said. "…I thought they didn't do anything until 24 hours had passed?"

"They don't usually." Donald agreed. "But Scrooge is using some of his considerable influence to 'encourage' them to work faster. I wouldn't worry, Webby." He said, as gently as he could without whispering. "She's probably just fell over or something. She might be in the hospital, but that can be fixable. I doubt she's been kidnapped or anything."

That was too much for Webby who burst into tears and flung herself into Donald's chest. After getting over his initial shock, the ex-sailor stroked her hair gently and hugged her.

As he did so he heard her whisper. "I didn't even kiss her goodbye."

Feeling there was nothing he could really say to that, Donald just resolved to hug her tighter.


	12. And I am where?

**Hey! Roxy Goth here. Thanks to Guest for reviewing again. Hope you enjoy this chapter, this is where the OC's start to come in. Hope you enjoy. I do take constructive criticism, but no flames please!**

 **See chapter 1 for disclaimer and let's go!**

Bentina's head hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before. And considering the life she'd lived and the various injuries she'd received that was saying something.

She forced open her eyes to see…darkness. Pitch black darkness. "Great." She muttered under her breath as she tried to sit up. Her head collided with something cold and metallic and she let out a little 'ooh' before wrapping her hands round it. After feeling around a little she came to one horrible conclusion. A cage. She was in a cage. "Oh, Bentina." She said softly to herself. " _Whatever_ have you got yourself into that time?"

"WHO'S THERE?" A raspy voice startled Mrs Beakley and made her jump slightly. She had though she was alone. "WELL!?"

Now Mrs B was in two minds. Was this a trick? Should she respond? She rubbed her fore-head feeling a head-ache developing. Webby! She froze as the thought came into her mind. Oh Webby. She'd be so worried. She had to get out of here. With that thought in mind Bentina started feeling round the cage, trying to find anything that may help her.

"I don't think there's anyone there, Chief." A different voice said, gently. Mrs B paused. That voice. Sounder familiar from somewhere – but where?

"Stuff and poppycock! There has to be! I heard them!"

"With all due respect, chief, you hear a lot of things."

"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"Excuse me!" Beakley interrupted the voices. "Who are you? And where am I?"

There was a long pause and then. "You're on a spaceship, mam." The second voice said, monotonously.

That gave Bentina cause to pause. A spaceship? She started wracking her brains, trying to think of any enemy that was an alien. One sprung to mind. "Zea Maize." She said, using the full scientific mane that Huey had come up with last time they'd accounted the alien.

"Who?" The second voice asked.

Beakley sighed. "Zea Maize. The name my…nephew, kind off, came up with. We encountered her last autumn and managed to get away with our lives. Just."

There was a long pause. Then the first voice asked. "This 'Zea Maize' wouldn't have happened to be residing in a corn-field, would she?"

"Er…actually she was." Beakley said in surprise, turning to where she thought the voice was coming from. "How did you-"

"We got kidnapped via a corn-field as well." The first voice explained. "I got kidnapped first, then young Crane over there came a little while after me."

"And by a 'little while' he means quite a long while, we think." The second voice 'Crane' said.

"Crane." Beakley murmured just loudly nought to hear. "I knew a Crane once. Except you couldn't be him, because he disappeared about ten years ago."

"Ten years ago? Well, that can't be me. I don't think I've been here ten years. Not yet anyway. It must be coming up to it."

The matter-of-fact way Crane said that, filled Bentina was momentarily disappear. She couldn't be here for nearly ten years. What would happen to Webby? Oh, Webby. She clutched her chest as she felt her heart breaking.

She hoped her grand-daughter was alright.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Webby hoped her granny was alright. The police hadn't been able to trace even a feather of her, and seeing as 24 hours had now definitely passed, it was becoming unlikely they ever would.

No. Webby's hand curled round her phone defensively. She wouldn't think like that. She couldn't think like that.

"Hey." She heard a soft voice behind her.

"Get lost, Dewie." She said, softly.

There was a beat, then she felt an arm round her, pulling her gently against his shoulder. Webby stifled a sob and whispered. "Where is she?"

"I dunno, Webs." Dewie said, just as softly. "Is there not anyone else you can call to help? I mean, Beakley must have some sort of family member, mustn't she?"

Webby was about to snap that she and Beakley weren't exactly rich on family members like the Ducks were, but stopped herself as an idea struck her. "Of course!" She said, excitedly, leaping up. "Of course! Duh – idiot!" She smacked her hand against her fore-head, before giving Dewey a hug. "Thanks Dewey!"

As Webby bonded off, Dewey was left in a state of confusion.

What just happened?


	13. Ranting and Recruiting

**Hey! I'm back, thanks to Guest, lucy moon and Miss 'Webbigail' herself for reviewing the last chapter, it means a lot.**

 **Feel free to check out my profile, if you wish.**

 **This chapter takes place two days after the last. So 72 hours of police work.**

 **See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

"This is ridiculous!"

Donald groaned and massaged his forehead as he listened, unwilling, to Scrooge ranting.

"I mean what is wrong with the police force nowadays!? Do none of them have a brain cell between them? When I get my hands on the Chief Commissioner-!"

"-I take it's there's still nothing then?" The ex-navy personal said, emotionlessly.

Just the tone of his nephews voice was enough to break Scrooges rant in its stride. "…Well, no. There's not."

"Great. Just great." He finished the last dregs of his coffee and got up. "I'll be in the houseboat if you need me."

As Scrooge watched him go he was overcome with a feeling of helplessness.

And if there was one thing that irritated Scrooge more than seeing people just throw money away, it was being helpless.

Finishing his own coffee he slammed it down on the table and bellowed. "LAUNCHPAD!"

Almost as if he'd been hovering outside the doorway the pilot poked his head round the door. "I'm a pilot." He said, automatically. Seeing his bosses slightly bewildered look he covered it up with a quick. "You called, Mr McDuck?"

With a quick shake of his head, Scrooge said. "Sit doon, Launchpad."

The pilot did so.

Scrooge fixed him with a look and said. "Ookey, my boy, here's where we stand. Mrs Beakley is missing, as you and everyone else in the country is aware, and I want you to help find her."

"And how do I do that Mr McD?" Launchpad asked before immediately shrinking back in his seat as his boss fixed him with an incinerating look.

"You're a pilot, launchpad! You can help us recruit people to help, you can…can look, look around you can…eh – of for goodness sakes, use your INITUTIVE!"

By now Launchpad had slunk further down the seat into an uncomfortable position, but he still had enough wits about him to give a salute and say. "Leave it with me, Mr McD!" Before scrambling up and hurrying out the room.

Behind him Scrooge gave a grumble and poured himself more coffee.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _two hours later._

"And…done!" Launchpad stepped back to admire his handywork, brushing the oil off his hands in the process.

"What's done?" He heard a voice ask from behind.

"Agh!" He jumped about a mile in the air before whipping round to see a confused Webby standing in the doorway. "Oh. Webby, it's you."

She gave him a tight smile and walked into the room. "What're you doing?" She said, curiously, looking at the finally-fixed plane.

Launchpad gave a grin and puffed his chest up. "Mr McDuck has recruited me to help find your grandma! I'm going to fly all over the USA in this baby here and, when I find Mrs B, I'll bring her back."

Webby looked up at the plane and nodded. "That's a good idea…ooh!" She suddenly gave a squeal and jumped up and down before turning on Launchpad with lightning speed. "I know who you can get to help! Here…" She motioned for him to bend down.

He did so and she whispered into his ear.

Launchpad nodded slowly and straightened back up. "Sounds good. I didn't know Mrs B had any friends. Okey, I'll do it! But I'll need some help…" He thought for a moment and snapped his fingers. "Got it! Leave it with me, Webby?"

Brimming with a new-found energy, Webby shot him a thumbs up before dancing out the room.

The pilot climbed into his plane and snapped on his goggles. "Don't worry, Mrs B." He said, under his breath. "I'm comin' for ya."

And he flew off.

 **Anyone who guesses who Launchpad is planning to contact gets a special mention in the next chapter!**


	14. Beakley and the Grand-Mistress

**Hey! I'm back with the first update of August. Thank you to Guest, Sadie and Webbigail for reviewing the last chapter.**

 **Thank you also to Dewey x Lena and riverajocabed1 for both reviewing and getting my little challenge from last chapter right.**

 **You might have noticed I've changed the rating to 'T'. Mainly because I'm not sure how…deep, for lack of a better word, this will go. So I'm staying on the side of caution. Also there might be a couple of swearwords, thought I'll warn you when this happens.**

 **Cracking on, this chapter focuses on Beakley. It was going to switch to Launchpad afterwards, but I decided that went against the atmosphere was trying to create. Hope you enjoy, please see chapter 1 for the disclaimer.**

 **Warning: Swearing.**

Who knew how long she had been here now? A couple of weeks? A month? Her watch was no help to her seeing as she didn't know how long she had been unconscious for in the first place and – being in the middle of outer space – she couldn't count on sunsets, rises or stars.

In other words, she was going crazy.

"How have you not gone mad?" She said, out loud. To all appearances it would seem she was talking to thin air, but by this stage she was certain that-

"-Eh. You get used to it." The ridiculously easy-going voice of Crane said. "If you want actual survival tips though I would suggest either keeping some anchor to sanity or – if you want to be like Chief – retreat inwards into a fantasy world-"

"-It is NOT a fantasy-!" The angry voice of Chief bellowed from her right.

"-Of course it's not Chief." Crane's voice said, placatingly. Despite her situation Beakley felt a wild urge to laugh. It was like being at home with Donald and Scrooge.

"It's not!"

"Whatever you say, Chief."

Tuning out the bickering behind her Bentina squinted at the bars in front of her. There must be something she was missing, something obvious, something like-

-She froze. A lock. She facepalmed, the sound echoing around the room. A bloody lock. What was wrong with her, for goodness sake? She was clearly going senile…

"-Are you alright?" Crane asked, having heard the face-palm.

"There's a lock on the cage." Bentina announced, feeling positively giddy. Behind her she could vaguely hear the voices of Chief and Crane, but tuned them out as she reached towards the lock.

As soon as her hand made contact with it a powerful shock coursed through her and she reeled backwards hitting her head against the floor with such force she saw stars. As her head swam she was strangely aware of Chief's voice.

"-Stupid _fucking_ women! Now you've gone and done it!"

"-Steady on, Chief, she didn't know-"

"KEEP OUT OF THIS CRA-!" There was a distance bang that had the immediate effect of shutting Chief up. Even through Bentina's dazed and dis-orientated state she had the sense to realise that this, was bad.

A few seconds later a light filled the room and with a groan she covered her eyes. Her temple throbbed and she found herself _whimpering,_ for heavens sake.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up. A tall alien, pale and milky-white stood over her.

There was a long pause while neither spoke. Then the alien raised a hand and clicked two long elegant fingers together.

Another alien – whom Beakley had somehow missed coming in – handed over a object and the first alien looked at it, touched something and then pressed the objects to its throat.

Beakley watched in a weird mix of curiosity and horror as the object seemed to…sink…into the aliens throat.

There was a couple of seconds pause and then the alien said, in a female voice excluding dominance from every vowel. "Testing 1,2,3. Can you understand me?" There was an expectant pause, then when the ex-earthwomen failed to respond and sharp. "Are you un-able to hear?"

Beakley moved her beak but, due to the fact her mouth had suddenly gone dry, found herself unable to respond.

The alien made a sound that was essentially a sigh and turned to the alien next to her. "7, why is the specimen not responding to me?"

The alien next to her shrugged and said something in a series of screeches and clicks that was so intense that Beakley found herself backing away slightly.

"I see." The first alien said, dryly. She turned back to Beakley. "My name is of no importance to you. You will forget your own as well. As from this moment on, you are Specimen Three. Do you understand me?"

Beakley nodded. There was no point provoking the alien women after all.

"As Specimen 1 and 2 tried to warn you – although you stupidly failed to comprehend – the bars are electrocuted. If you try to break out of them it will result in a punishment – and I'm not just talking about the pain you experienced just now. Trust me. That will pale in significance to what _I_ can put you through, do you understand?"

Beakley nodded.

The alien nodded. "Good. I will let you off for today because you were un-aware of the rules. If you fail again…well." With a soft chuckle the alien reached for her throat and pulled the object through her skin.

Beakley fought the urge to throw up.

The alien handed the object back to the second alien and screeched something at it.

The second alien bowed and the two of them turned to go.

Before it did though, Beakley saw the eyes of the second alien, which were covered by a thin layer of skin that resembled a third eyelid, make contact with her and the late-middle aged duck had a jolt of familiarity go up her spine. She had seen those eyes before. Where had she seen those eyes before?

The door closed and the room was plunged into darkness once more.


	15. Darkwing's First Solo

**Hey! I'm back! Thank you to Webbigail and DeweyxLena for reviewing the last chapter.**

 **I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.**

 **Oh, by the way, DeweyxLena and riverjocabed1 – you were right…**

 **See chapter one for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

The three teenagers staggered into the street laughing and slapping each other on the back while simultaneously waving the bags of stuff they'd just stolen in the air triumphantly.

They were so caught up in the moment they failed to notice the shadowy figure in the darkness who adjusted his mask and muttered three words.

"Let's. Get. Dangerous."

As the laughter in the street intensified - and people around the boys backed away – the figure stood up and – striking the mandatory dramatic pose – said in a booming voice worthy of a drama teacher.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am-" He paused. Damn. He should have rehearsed this. "-The…nails that scratch…on the blackboard. I am-" He paused for dramatic effect. "-Darkwing Duck!"

There was a beat while Darkwing waited for the screaming and running to begin. Then the laughter started.

"Darkwing Duck!" One of the boys cowed. "He's not real you freak!"

"Yeah! He's a TV character! Hah!"

"Hey, isn't he like – fifty now?" The third one chipped in. At that the other two lost it practically falling on the ground they were laughing that hard.

Drake frowned. The insulting little idiots! Jim Starling was NOT 50. He was 49 and a half.

Determined not to be defeated by a trio of idiots, Darkwing leapt down from his perch directly in front of the boys and looked what he presumed to be the leader straight in the eyes. "I AM Darkwing Duck." He said, lowering his voice in order to seem more intimidating. "Let's get dangerous."

The leader glared at him and put his bag down. He then cracked his knuckles and charged.

Darkwing waited till he was uncomfortably close and leapt to the side.

The leader – his target suddenly gone – stumbled and fell to the ground.

"Yes! Take that!" Drake said gleefully, spinning around with happiness. "Oh." He stopped dead seeing the leaders friends looking daggers at him. "…Hi."

With an almost animalistic roar the smaller of the two launched himself at Darkwing who wasted no time in literally running forward and jumping over him and landing on his feet.

The smaller of the two made a confused whine before smacking directly into a nearby lamppost and collapsing ungraciously to the ground.

"Yes!" Darkwing jumped up and punched the air practically dizzy with delight. "Oh-hah, Uh-oh, I'm the king, go me-ulp!" He looked up at the gorilla of a duck who had just lifted him up by his cape and smiled nervously. "…Hi."

The gorilla snorted hot air into Darkwings eyes. He blinked and found his eyes watering. "…Maybe we can talk this over?" Darkwing offered, feeling panic forming in the pit of his stomach. Oh, how had Staling made this look so east? Oh that's right, it was staged. Duh.

The gorilla drew his fist back and Drake tensed, closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable blow. When it never came he opened one eye to see the gorilla looking to the sky with his mouth opened in amazement.

Following his gaze Drake was surprised to see a plane in the sky which seemed to be getting closer and closer to them all the time.

When the two of them realised it was going to hit them was impossible to pinpoint but the gorilla, upon realising, hurled Drake against a wall and ran off at top speed.

Through his dazed state Drake heard the um-mistakable screech of metal being dragged against the ground, quickly followed by a 'crunch' as the nose of the plane hit the stomach of a lamppost.

Smoke filled his nostrils and he coughed. Geez, what a crash! What an almighty crash! There was no way anyone could survive that…

"Getting better!"

…Except Launchpad McQuack that is, Drake thought, relief flooding through him.

"Hey! Drake! How are ya?"

Drake froze. The oaf…

He stood up and ignoring the stabbing pain in his ribs said, in a ham-ly manner. "Of…of who is this – Drake you speak of? I – I the terror that flaps in night! I am…" He cast an sideward eye at the wreck. "…The plane without a pilot. I AM Darkwing Duck!" With an enormous effort he struck a pose.

Thankfully Launchpad caught on. "Oh, sorry. Mr Darkwing. Hey, I don't suppose you could help me with something, could you?"

Drake shrugged. "That depends. What is it?"

Launchpad quickly brought him up to speed on the situation regarding Mrs Beakley and explained what he wanted help with.

At the end Drake nodded. "Sounds good. I'm in."

"Nice one!" Launchpad held his hand for a high-five which Drake gladly returned. "Let's go!"

"Er…hold on a second, Launchpad. Aren't you forgetting something?" Drake said, indicating the newly wrecked plane.

"Oh…yes. Hhmm. I don't suppose-" The pilot started, turning to his shorter companion who, anticipating the question, held his hand up.

"I do. Follow me." With that the two ducks disappeared into the night.


	16. Darkwing's First Solo Part 2

**Hey! I'm back. Hope you guys are having a good September so far and a massive thank you to Sadie, DeweyxLena and Webbigail for reviewing the last chapter.**

 **I must admit I had the entire plot worked out, right. Then I went back over it and realised I'd left one VITAL thing out. So I had to mess around and fix that. Which is just my slightly-long winded way of saying – sorry for not updating sooner.**

 **I just want to clarify there will be other characters – and not just OC's – joining the action soon. I just need to get this little bit sorted and we're away.**

 **See chapter one for the disclaimer and we now re-join the action with Darkwing and Launchpad.**

"Hey, how much further is this place DW?" Launchpad finally asked after about twenty minutes off walking in complete silence. "Only, you know, I am on a mission and time is money as Mr McD would say…"

"It's just round the next corner, Launchpad." Darkwing said, pointing for impact.

"Yeah, sure it is." Launchpad muttered under his breath as he checked his watch. If Mr McD could see him now, he'd be fired for sure…

Suddenly an arm blocked his patch. "We're here." Drake said cheerfully.

Launchpad looked up to see a sign across a building that read: ' **Gosalyn's Gear's.** '

"Gosalyn's gears?" He echoed, doubtfully. "Is that your…daughter?"

"Oh no! No, no. My _sister_." Drake said hurriedly. Seeing Launchpad's side-look he quickly added. "Our parents were, like, MASSIVE fans of the show."

"I see."

There was a beat, then Drake said. "Wait here. I'll go get her. One moment." And he disappeared into the night with a flourish worthy of the real Darkwing. Well. Launchpad thought to himself. He supposed Drake was the real Darkwing now. He even had a Gosalyn. Fancy that…

Well. 'One moment' turned out to be about half an hour and just at the point Launchpad was debating going back and just doing his best to fix the damn plane himself Drake appeared with a slightly smaller women by his side.

Launchpad blinked. She looked stunning. And, nothing like the fictional Gosalyn - this one had waist-length blonde hair and purple glasses for one thing – she also was wearing overalls and had a toolbox in one hand.

"Hi! You must be Launchpad. Drakie's told me so much about you! Where's the plane then?" Gosalyn looked around her as if expecting it to manifest out of thin air.

"Er…" Launchpad was finding it hard to formulate words.

Drake gave him a confused look and – beckoning to his sister – said. "This way, Lyn. Follow me…"

Twenty minutes later they were back next to the wreck. The young mechanics eyes lit up and she all but ran over to the wreck.

"Okay, I know I don't usually say it, but this is to good an opportunity to pass up – wow, keen gear! I mean, look at this paint and this _aluminium_! Gee, it's awesome! Who made it?

A quick nudge the ribs by Drake brought Launchpad back to reality. "Er…a guy called Gyro Gearloose. You may have-"

"Mr Gearloose!? No way! Awesome!" Gosalyn practically squealed. "Wow! I read every one of his publications, he's a genius! Can I meet him?"

Launchpad felt a pang of jealously but managing to control it said. "Maybe. In the future. Not now. You know…top secret mission and all…" He said, looking meaningfully at Drake who got the hint.

"When can you fix it by, Gos?"

"Well." The hyper air about her suddenly gone, she out her head on one side, hand on her hips and looked at the wreck thoughtfully. "Assuming I'm good enough to put _all_ my _other_ work on hold for you, dear brother, I can have it ready in about…. huh. How's a day sound? With you two helping, of course?"

"Sure thing!"

"Sounds good." Launchpad echoed; thankful she hadn't suggested calling Gyro.

"Great! Well, what are you waiting for? A written invitation? Drakie hand me that spanner…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile back at the manor Donald was on his fifth cup of coffee in as many hours while massaging his forehead, trying to get rid of the annoying headache that had plagued him for the last three hours.

Just then the doorbell rang. With a squawk of pain Donald massaged his fore-head even deeper and yelled, as loudly as he could. "Is anyone going to get that!?"

No answer. The doorbell went again, this time held a bit longer.

"Anyone!?" Donald called again.

The doorbell went a third time, this time in two short bursts followed by a third longer one.

By this time resigned to the fact his boys and Scrooge were clearly doing other things, the ex-sailor got up and, muttering things under his breath, staggered to the door.

His eyes went wide as soon as he looked through the peephole and realised who was on the other side. "Wha…no, no way." He said in audible horror before throwing open the door and yelling. "What are you doing here!?"

 **Feel free to guess who Donald's yelling at. Anyone who get's it right I'll mention in the next chapter.**


	17. The two Gems

**Hey! I'm back. Congratulation to DeweyxLena for getting the challenge from last chapter right. Also thanks to MickeyMouse and Guest for reviewing as well.**

 **By the way I've started another Ducktales fanfiction called '** **Della Duck's Totally Awesome Guide to Bonding With Your Family!**

 **Okay, so see chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.**

"Wow. Nice to see you to, cuz." Gladstone drawled lazily, arms folded.

Donald balled his fist and almost growled. "I am NOT in the mood for your games, Gladst-"

"Hey, hey! No games, I promise." His younger cousin said, holding his hands up. "We came to help."

Donald opened his mouth to tell him to get lost, when he paused. Gladstone had actually been quite helpful in the immediate months after Della…went, so it was with that in mind he sighed and ran a wing across his beak. "Okay! Okay. You can come i-wait. Did you say 'we'?"

"Yeah, I did."

There was a pause while Donald waited for Gladstone to elaborate. When he didn't, Donald, with remarkable patience, said. "Gladstone. Who. Is. We?"

"Oh! Fethry."

Fethry! The ex-navy personal felt like banging his head against the wall so he did so. Just once and quite sharply.

"Whoa! Cuz, steady on! It's fine, I promise. Anyway, he's parking now."

"Oh that's alright the – WHAT!?" With that last squawk Donald pushed past his green-clad cousin and fled down the path.

"Donald! Wait, slow down, it's fine! He's got a license!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Donald screamed back, as he ran at full speed down the path. Fethry parking!? Okay, so yeah, Gladstone was technically right, he did have a license but _still_ , Fethry parking!?

Seeing a green shiny Mercedes, which could only be Gladstone's, Donald skidded to a stop just as Fethry got out the car with a wide grin on his face. "Hey Cuz! Am I alright to park this here?"

"Er…" Donald looked at the car and noting that it both wasn't on fire or upside down he nodded dumbly.

"Great!" With a level of enthusiasm that only Fethry could produce he slung his arms round both his older cousin and went. "Soooo, how's the hunt for Beakley going?"

Donald groaned. "Still nothing. I don't get it, it's like she's vanished off the face of the universe. Launchpad's been sent to see if he can find her, but last we heard he's crashed the plane again and's getting someone to fix it so…yeah. Not going well."

"Well, we're here now." Fethry said, as the approached the manor. "And Donald, I'm telling you, between your determination, Gladstone's luck and my out-the-box thinkingness, not to mention Scrooge's richness, the boys individual abilities and Webby's…webby-ness we'll have her found her in no time."

"Oh geez." Donald found himself wiping his eyes as Fethry opened the door. "I dunno guys. She's ben missing a few days now-"

"-Donald." Gladstone said.

"-And we all know it's the first 24 hours that are crucial-"

"Donald." Gladstone said again a bit more urgently as Fethry started doing what looked like sign language.

Donald stopped and looked at them both like they were losing their minds. "What?"

"Do you maybe want to take this outside if you're going to rant?"

At which point their older cousin saw red. "Take this – take what!? I'm just trying to say that it's been ages since Beakley went and she's, what? An ex-spy? If anyone can break out of where she is it'll be her, so why hasn't she?"

"DONALD-"

"Because she's dead, that's why! Same as Della! Dead, dead, dead, dead…" Finally picking up on Fethry's sign-language he turned round to see Webby standing on the stairs behind him, eyes wide and lip trembling. "…Dead. Hey Webby."

Webby looked at him in utter betrayal and stifled a sob, loudly before turning and fleeing up the stairs.

Sensing His cousin reactions behind him, Donald turned back round and shooting them a truly epic death glare snapped. "Don't. Say. A. Word."

To which Gladstone folded his arms again and leaned against a wall, meanwhile Fethry did a thumbs down and made an upset face.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile upstairs Webby burst into Scrooge's office, causing him to spill his ink all over the paper he was trying to write on. "Webbigail-!"

"Granny;s dead!" She wailed, throwing herself into lap.

"What?" Scrooge squawked, heart nearly giving oit. "Who said!?"

"Donald!"

Scrooge frowned a lightly stroked her hair as she sobbed against his chest. That didn't add up. He'd have to speak to Donald later, find out what had happened. For now he'd just focus on cheering his adopted 'grand-niece' up.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Fethry, I swear to god if you don't stop making that face right now-!"

"You did go a little far, Donald." Gladstone said, from his chair. [They'd moved into the kitchen]

"Says the model of morality!"

Gkadstone's fist balled as he shot back. "Okay, I know I' nowhere near perfect but at least I've never said anything like that!"

"On no, you just wipe your good fortune in everyone else's faces!"

"You think I want this luck!?"

"You act like you do!"

"Guys, calm down! Think of the boys!"

"Shut it, Fethry!" Both of his older cousins said, simultaneously.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile upstairs Scrooge frowned as he heard the sound of arguing in the distance shortly followed by a closer knock on his door. "C'min!"

Huey poked his head round the door and said, apologetically. "Er…Uncle Gladstone and Uncle Fethry are here…

Ah. That explains the yelling. Scrooge sighed and patted Webby's hair. "Doon't worry aboot yer grandma, Webbigail. If anyone can break out of wherever she is it's her. Now…" Putting her gently on the floor he got up and cracked his neck. "Excuse me while I go and bang my nephew's heads together. Back in a minute or ten..."

Literally as soon as the door shut, the phone in Scrooges office rang. Webby hiccupped and hesitantly picked up the phone. "Hello…?"

"Hey, Mr McDuck! Are you alright? Your voice sounds high-pitched and feminine…"

Webby giggled. "Launhpad, it's me! Webby!"

"Oh Webby! That makes more sense, look I can't talk for long, we're about to take off. Tell Scrooge when you next see him that the planes fixed and we're going to go to that island you mentioned, got it?"

"Got it!"

There was a pause then a loud. "Okay, I didn't get a word of that, but I'm going to assume that you said yes! Okay, see you soon Webs!"

As she heard the click of the phone Webby felt a flutter of excitement in her chest and she clutched the phone to her chest and spun round.

Her granny would be coming home soon, she was sure of it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile high above the earth in a tiny metal spaceship Beakley was running around a maze of never-ending corridor's made of straw, trying to get to Webby who was encased in a telekinetic ball of energy.

The more ways she tried the higher the walls got and the more the feeling of panic started up in her chest. "Webby!" She called out. "Webby!"

Then a sheen of brightness came over the maze of straw and she covered her eyes while calling out another desperate. "Webbigail!"

Beakley opened her eyes to hear her heart pounding in her ears and see a wall of brightness: Just sheer white brightness.

She put a wing to her eyes to shield them as she tried to back away, quickly realising she couldn't go very far for some reason.

Although…she there was something…something in the brightness. A jewel, Beakley realised, two actually, and although part of her knew this was ridiculous, but honestly that was what they looked like. Two shiny multi-coulered jewels among this sea of glorious light.

Enchanted by the jewels Bentina reached forward, trying to touch them, just one little touch…they look fantastic-

Cue a scream which she slowly realised was her own as a jolt of pain coursing through her entire body, seemingly down to her bones even.

By the time the pain faded and she could open her eyes again, the jewels were gone.

If anyone wants to hazard a guess as to what the jewles are, feel free. If you happen to get the answer I'll mention you in the relevant chapter.


	18. Onwards and Upwards

**Hey! I'm back, thank to Guest for reviewing the last chapter and let's crack on.**

 **More OC's for you. They have been mentioned before though.**

 **Also – just a side note – the reason I've left this story alone for a bit is because I've started another one called 'Della Duck's totally awesome guide to bonding with you family' if any of you are interested, please feel free to check it out – thank you.**

 **See chapter one for the disclaimer.**

As Scrooge stomped down the stairs his brow got deeper as he heard the argument his nephews were having.

"I don't know why you're even here in the first place!" Donald was screaming. "You don't even know the concept of work!"

"Hey!" That was Gladstone. "I understand the concept of work! I just have no need for it-"

"You don't even try!"

"I don't NEED to-!"

"YES YOU DO!"

"Okay, guys, maybe if we could all calm down and drink some tea or something-?"

"SHUT UP FEATHRY!" His two oldest nephews yelled simultaneously at the same time as an enormous crash happened.

By now Scrooge was frowning so hard an headache was actually developing so he wasn't in the best frame of mind as he smashed open the door and yelled. "And WHAT is going on in here!?"

There was a beat. Then Donald and Gladstone pointed at each other and said, simultaneously. "He started it!"

"And ah'm finishing it!" Scrooge snapped. He pointed to pieces of china on the floor and said, dangerously. "What's that?"

"China." Feathry said, clearly upset. "I was trying to make tea…calm the situation down…"

As he spoke Scrooge noticed his two oldest nephews looking more and more guilty. Gladstone [much to his surprise] was the first to speak. "Er…sorry Feathers. We just got carried away. We'll make up now. Wha'ddya say Donald? We make up now?"

Looking at his cousins hand Donald looked like he was considering slapping it away, but looking at Scrooges death glare he relented and the two shook hands.

"Noow, if ya pair of imbeciles don't MIND ah actually have a VERY upset little girl upstairs and - !"

" - Uncle Scrooge, Uncle Scrooge, Uncle Scrooge!" Webby burst in through the door and skidded to a halt in front of him. "Guess what!?"

Scrooge gave a sidewards look at Donald, who shrugged, before saying to Webby. "Er…what?"

Webby grinned before launching into explanation.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile in St Canard Launchpad and Drake were sitting inside the [now finally fixed] plane.

Drake was holding onto the sides of his chair as he said. "Now…if you could just lift the plane of the ground GENTLY that would be much appreciated –"

"Going up!" Launchpad grabbed the controls of the plane and launched it upwards with aggressive force.

Drake screamed loudly as the plane soured upwards. Meanwhile on the ground Gosalyn put her hands to her mouth and yelled – over the sound of the engine – "Good Luck, Drakie!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

About three hours later they arrived at a small discreet island in the middle of the sea. Drake – face pressed up against the window – said. "I'm fairly certain this isn't on any maps."

"I think that's the point, Double D." Launchpad said, coming over to the window to see.

"Yeah probably…" Drake trailed off as he looked at Launchpad who was casually standing next to him and admiring the view. "Er…Launchpad?"

"Yes?"

"Who's FLYING the PLANE!?"

"I am!" There was a beat, and the Launchpad said. "Oh no!" and ran towards the controls, but by then the plane was spiralling and spiralling down…

CRASH!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At the same time as Launchpad was expanding his crash history, two some-what elderly ducks where climbing over some rocks, trying to find food.

"Ricky, do you think you can reach those?" The female one said, pointing up to some coconuts.

Ricky looked up, shielded his eyes from the sun and said. "Yeah I think so…wait…"

The female duck waited and when nothing else was said, clicked her tongue and said. "I am waiting, Ricky!"

"…Somethings crashed. Over by the waters edge I think."

The female duck clapped her hands together. "Great! It might have food in it! Let's go see what it is!" She then darted off between the trees.

Ricky climbed down the rocks, calling after her as he did so. "Eliza, wait! We're meant to stick together! ELIZA!"

Getting no reply he sighed impatiently and – beating a couple of tree branches aside with his self-made spear – hurried after her.


End file.
